


Angel of Mercy

by Va1kyrie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Dean and Castiel think their relationship is secret but they're idiots, Jack is good boy, Jane Toppan, M/M, Salt And Burn, Sexual Assault, Supernatural - Freeform, sexual assault is not explicit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2018-11-12
Packaged: 2019-08-22 16:43:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16601732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Va1kyrie/pseuds/Va1kyrie
Summary: When Dean and Jack are on a supply run, the Impala is struck by an oncoming lorry. In hospital, Dean is in a bad way. Nineteenth century serial killer, Jane Toppan, is going to make it a whole lot worse.





	Angel of Mercy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [My Castiel](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=My+Castiel).



With the amount of people living in the bunker now, food was always low, and tonight Dean had pulled the short straw and had left to get groceries. In the passenger seat was Jack, humming along to the radio, oblivious to how fast Dean was driving. Dean could drive as fast as he wanted when Sam wasn't in the car. He didn't hear "there's a speed limit for a reason, Dean" every ten minutes and Jack seemed to enjoy the speed (when he was paying attention) since losing the ability to fly. The song ebbed as it finished and switched to the next song, a more obscure Whitesnake song and Dean looked over as Jack started to sing the words to it.

 

"How do you know this song?" he asked, rather impressed. Whitesnake was one of his more private favourites, like Bon Jovi and most other hair metal bands. He listened to this stuff on his own so he wouldn't get shit from Sam.

 

"Cas," Jack replied. "It was on one of the tapes you made for him."

 

Dean cleared his throat, trying to hide a blush. "Oh, right," he said. No one knew about him and Cas, so it was best not to pry too much in case Jack started asking odd questions he didn't have answers to. Instead he asked, "You like this band then? If you want you can grab one of the tapes from the glove compartment when we get back to the--"

 

Then nothing.

 

He'd looked away from the road for a second.

 

One single second.

 

That was all it took for a semi to fly across the intersection where Dean had had the right of way. He hadn't looked. He'd just assumed. The semi barreled them into a ditch before the truck finally managed to stop. The truck driver got out, panicked and shaking. He could see smoke rising from the crushed bonnet of the Impala.

"I-- I-- I'm so sorry!! Fuck fuck fuck, are you okay?? Shit shit shit!! Hello 911? Yeah there was an accident, I swear I didn't mean to-- A car crash. The guys in the car aren't moving! Breathing? I-- I-- I can't tell! Just send help, please!!"

 

The next few minutes were just flashes for Dean. He couldn't breathe all that well. Or move. He turned his head to the side to look at Jack who was crumpled in the seat, cuts all over his face. He wasn't moving. "Jack?" He tried to say, but he couldn't make a sound. It felt like something was crushing his chest. His eyes darted down to look because his neck refused to move that way. The door was pushing the steering wheel against his chest and he knew he had broken ribs, internal bleeding an absolute certainty. He tried to call for Jack again but the air stopped in his throat painfully. He could hear someone outside shouting. Shouting at him? He didn't know. His vision was starting to black out from the pain. He coughed, blood spraying the smashed windscreen in front of him. His last thought before passing out was "that's not good..."

 

The ambulance arrived minutes later, along with a fire engine. They cut the unconscious Dean out of the car and put him carefully on a stretcher, just as Jack was starting to rouse. He had a jacket over his face to save his eyes from the sparks as Dean was cut free,

 

"Dean?" He cried out as soon as the jacket was lifted. He could see clearly how badly Dean was hurt, but he felt fine. He tried to climb out of the car to get to him, ignoring the paramedics. "I can help him!"

 

"Kid, no, you can't, just stay still! You could have a spinal injury!"

 

Still Jack ignored them. He climbed out of the car and the instant he put weight on his legs, he collapsed, roaring in pain. The paramedic knelt beside him and practically had to hold him down so she could check the injury. "We're gonna put this neck brace on you, and I need you to stay still. That's the only way you can help your dad, okay? My name's Lindsay, what's yours?"

 

"Jack," he sobbed out.

 

"Okay, Jack, we're gonna take real good care of you and your dad. He's going to go in the first ambulance and you'll be right behind him. Can we call someone for you when we get to the hospital? Your mom?"

 

"Cas, call Cas and Sam," he replied, still breathing hard from the pain.

 

"Okay, we will, Jack, just stay calm, we'll get their phone numbers at the hospital and the nurse will call them for you. Now, this mask is going to give you some medicine to ease the pain, we think you've broken your leg, but we don't know what other injuries you have, but we're going to take good care of you, okay?"

 

"Okay," he nodded, breathing the gas and air in deep. He started to feel light-headed, the pain seeming further and further away. He liked whatever this stuff was.

 

It didn't take long to get to the hospital. The paramedic stayed by his side the whole time until Castiel and Sam arrived in the Emergency Room. They looked pale with worry. Castiel went straight over to Jack's bed, taking his hand, brushing the hair off his bloody face gently. Sam went to the nurse's station to ask about his brother leaving the two of them momentarily alone.

 

"I can't heal myself, Cas," Jack said, tears rolling down his cheeks. The gas and air had made him emotional, but at least he wasn't in pain. "And Dean, I couldn't help him. I'm sorry, I should have been able to--"

 

"That's enough of that, Jack," Castiel said soothingly. "You did everything right. Sometimes we can't help the way we want to, but staying calm and letting the paramedics work on Dean was the best thing you could have done at the time. It's not all about the power you have. Just rest."

 

With Castiel's presence, Jack calmed down enough to finally fall asleep after the nurse gave him a drip of something to ease the pain a little more effectively than the gas and air. Sam came back and collapsed in the chair beside Jack's bed, just looking at the young man for a long time. Castiel wanted to ask Sam what he knew, but he knew Sam was processing the only way he knew how right now. About ten minutes passed before Sam finally spoke.

 

"He's in the operating room, Cas... they won't tell me how bad it is. His side of the car took most of the force of the truck." Castiel licked his lips but remained quiet. "Shit Cas... I don't know what to do... How's Jack?"

 

"Broken leg, whiplash and a concussion, but other than a few cuts and grazes, he's perfectly fine. Thank God. And Dean will be too, he's a Winchester after all. A car crash isn't going to be what kills him, Dean won't allow it."

 

Sam snorted and nodded. "Yeah you're right..." He stood. "You, uhh, stay here with Jack in case he wakes up. I'm going to go sit where the surgeon can find me."

 

Castiel nodded and tried to give a comforting smile, but his mind was screaming at him. He wanted to be the one who waited for the surgeon, but he couldn't leave Jack. It felt like he was being torn in two, between the love of his life and his adoptive son. He cursed himself and decided to get proactive, taking a wet tissue and wiping the blood from Jack's face, shushing when he stirred slightly. He looked towards the direction Sam had gone, wondering how long Dean would be in surgery for, how seriously Dean was hurt. He needed to distract himself, taking a look at Jack's chart and wandering around the small cubicle, the closed curtain giving them a sense of false privacy.

 

Jack was transferred to a proper bed in a ward about three hours later, and Dean still wasn't out of surgery. This was getting more and more worrisome as the time slowly dragged by. Sam came by another hour later to give him an update, saying the surgery was going well but he hadn't been given anymore information. Castiel did his best to fill Sam in on Jack's condition, but honestly nothing had changed. The nurses were monitoring Jack's concussion, waking him up every hour or so, but there was nothing new. Sam looked as anxious as Castiel felt, sitting then standing then sitting again, until Castiel told him to go get something to eat and he would go and sit in the family room and wait for the surgeon. There was nothing else to be done, and just sitting around was something no hunter did well. Giving him something to do was the best thing for both of them.

 

Dean was another two hours in surgery before he was finished and wheeled into the recovery room. The surgeon came out, looking tired and drawn. Castiel stood.

 

"How is he? How is Dean?" The surgeon looked around for Sam, wondering who Castiel was to be asking questions. "I'm a... family friend. His brother is with the boy that was with Dean in the car accident."

 

The surgeon nodded. "He's doing well, he's in the recovery suite at the moment. He had a lot of internal bleeding, broken ribs, one had punctured his lung. He's breathing well on a ventilator, though. He's not out of the woods yet, the next twenty four hours are critical but he's definitely a fighter."

 

"That he is," Castiel couldn't help but smile. "Can I see him?"

 

"Yes, he's probably still asleep from the anaesthetic, if not he'll be very groggy," the surgeon said as he walked away to show Castiel to the recovery suite. He stopped at the double doors, looking around at Castiel. "He has a lot of tubes in him, sir, but try not to be worried about that. They just look a little... scary." He pushed the door open and led Castiel inside.

 

Castiel took a breath when Dean came into view. One side of his face was swollen and bruised, his arm in a cast, a large tube in his mouth helping him breathe, but he was awake, blinking, trying to work out who Castiel was through the haze of the drugs. Castiel bent over him, touching the cheek that wasn't covered in bruises.

 

"Hello, Dean," he smiled, the relief of seeing Dean alive was almost overwhelming. Dean leaned into the touch ever so slightly, enough to let Castiel know that Dean did recognise him. Dean's hand came up, touching the tube in his mouth, clearly wondering what the hell was in his mouth. Castiel took his hand and held it. "Don't touch, Dean, it's helping you breathe right now. It'll be out soon, I promise." Dean replied with a very small nod and closed his eyes, giving in to sleep. Castiel didn't want to let go of Dean's hand but he knew he had to go tell Sam the news. He walked Dean to the Intensive Care Unit and waited for him to get settled before leaving.

 

The next twelve hours were spent by Sam and Castiel switching places to keep Jack and Dean company, making sure if one of them did wake up, that they wouldn't be alone. Eventually Sam left, knowing Dean would need to know his car was being taken care of, getting Bobby to help him tow it back to the bunker. Mary popped in, but didn't stay long. The last time she remembered either of her kids in hospital was when Dean fell off the swings in the playground and broke his arm when he was three years old. This was far beyond her expertise. She decided that taking care of the bunker and letting Sam and Castiel take care of Dean and Jack was the best use of her talents.

 

While Sam was away, Dean started to wake up again, trying to groan but couldn't make a sound passed the ventilator. He panicked for half a second before figuring out what the thing in his mouth was for. Fuck, what had happened? His head was pounding in time to his heartbeat but the morphine was doing its job, making the pain barely more than a dull ache. He blinked and looked around, finding Castiel beside reading a pamphlet on Alzheimer's disease. He moved his hand, the needle in his hand clinking quietly against the metal of the bed frame alerting Castiel. Cas put the pamphlet down and took Dean's hand but Dean pulled away, making a sign as if he was writing.

 

"You want to write? Okay, okay, umm," Cas looked around and took the whiteboard that had Dean's name on it off the wall above the bed, giving it and the pen to Dean.

 

W-H-A-T

 

Dean didn't need to finish before Cas started to fill him in. Dean's eyes went wide and wiped the board clean with his fist.

 

J-A-C-K

 

"He's fine. He broke his leg and has a concussion but he's fine. He's in the ward upstairs watching Netflix." That made Dean nod slightly and he wiped the board clean again.

 

C-A-R

 

"Sam and Bobby are hauling it back to bunker. I'm not going to lie to you, Dean, it doesn't look great. The driver side is completely saved in. You're lucky to have survived..." Cas's eyes broke contact with Dean's and he could feel Cas stroke his arm. Dean's heart broke for him. He remembered how it felt, seeing Cas injured. He knew how helpless Cas was feeling right now.

 

F-I-N-E

 

"You're not fine, Dean," Cas said, only looking up to read the whiteboard. "You were in surgery for over six hours. You had internal bleeding. Your ribs are broken, one punctured your lung, you're not _fine_."

 

He quickly wrote W-I-L-L B-E in front of F-I-N-E, trying to get some sort of smile out of Cas. He succeeded, earning him a shake of the head as well. "You're such an idiot," Cas sighed. Dean put the marker down and took Cas's hand and squeezed. "I love you." Dean squeezed his hand twice in reply. Cas pulled his seat closer and rested his forehead against Dean's, kissing the bridge of his nose. "I'm going to tell the nurse you're awake, okay?" Dean nodded and Cas kissed him again. "Back in a moment."

 

Castiel was barely gone a full minute when a flurry of doctors and nurses rushed in, poking and prodding and using cold stethoscopes. He managed to hear, "we're going to try and take this out now", and suddenly the ventilator was being pulled from his throat, making him gag and cough. He made to sit up, thinking he was going to vomit, but he was pushed back in favour of the doctor listening intently to his breathing. He heard "again" and "again", like Dean had any other choice than to gasp for breath. When they seemed content with his breathing and all their other tests, they left, leaving Dean and Castiel alone. Dean used the side rail to pull himself up into a sitting position, groaning from the effort. Cas was right beside him, helping him sit up. He lowered the rail that Dean wasn't using and sat behind him, giving Dean something to lean against. Once Dean had caught his breath and was sure he wasn't going to throw up, he lay back, curling up against Cas, pushing his face into Cas's neck. They stayed like that for a while, Cas rubbing Dean's shoulder.

 

"Sam could be back any minute, Dean," Cas said. They'd hidden this for long enough that the sound of reluctance didn't even register to Dean anymore. Dean just sighed and nodded.

 

"Yeah I'm tired anyway," he said, voice hoarse. "You should go check on Jack. Make sure the nurses haven't fallen in love with that weird adorable thing he's got going on."

 

Cas laughed as he got up. "I think I'm too late. Sleep well, Dean." He leant down and kissed Dean's temple as the man got comfortable, pulling the blankets over his shoulders. Cas fussed for a little longer with the IV tube before leaving. Normally Dean was not a fan of fussing but when Cas did it... he didn't know why he felt so comfortable with it. He hadn't even liked Lisa fussing around him all those years ago. But Cas? Cas was different. Cas made him feel... made him feel... safe? Yeah, safe was the word. Safe was rare in this profession. Dean was asleep before Cas had even left, drooling on the pillow.

 

He didn't know how long he'd been asleep but he woke up freezing. The ICU lights had been turned off for some reason, making the act of waking up pretty jarring for Dean, momentarily forgetting where he was. He tried to sit up but found he couldn't move, his chest going cold. He felt something cold move over his back, to his shoulder, the something pulling him to lie on his back. The outline of a female figure appeared in the corner of his vision. He tried to speak but all he could do was lie there and watch as the woman's hand moved under Dean's blanket, pushing them aside to expose him. Dean closed his eyes, realising what was going to happen. _Just keep your eyes closed, Dean. You don't need anymore nightmares_ .The hand moved further south and she started to rub his cock through his boxers. His breath shuddered in pure disgust, pure _terror_ as the woman climbed on top of him, gyrating her hips down onto his. He turned his head to the side, praying desperately that this was just one more nightmare.

 

Fuck, fuck, fuck, this cannot be happening. This shit didn't happen. Not to him. Not in a fucking hospital.

 

"Open your eyes, love," came a whisper. But it wasn't a human whisper. Dean tried not to, but found himself opening his eyes. The woman on top of him was there-  he could feel her weight- but seemed to flutter in and out of the visible spectrum.

 

Ghost.

 

There was no doubt about it. Could he not have one day off? It was almost funny. Almost.

 

She bent over him and brought his face up to kiss him, shushing him when a tiny noise of protest, disgust, fear escaped him. She kept kissing him, kept moving her hips onto him until he started to feel lightheaded. Was he breathing? Terror of a different kind started to take hold when he realised he couldn't suck in a breath. What was she doing to him? The machines beside him started to squeal as he lost consciousness, in time to see the ICU lights flash back into life and the woman disappear.

 

Doctors rushed in, five of them, all working to get Dean breathing again. Castiel and Sam appeared behind them, keeping out of the way, letting them work. Sam turned away as the doctors tilted Dean's head back and pushed a tube down his throat, opening up his airways. As suddenly as they had started, the noises of the machines calmed and the doctors stepped back, puzzled, looking down at the man who had needed to be intubated so soon after coming off the ventilator. They checked Dean's charts and then checked the machine that was delivering his pain medication. There was a long pause.

 

"He's... his morphine dose was doubled..." The doctor looked around at the team. "Who-- which of you idiots added a goddamn zero to the machine?! Who operated the machine?! Was it you?"

 

A nurse looked down and started to shrink back behind the rest of the team. "I did but I double checked the dose! I swear it was the right dose!"

 

"This is the third patient this week," the doctor wasn't even shouting at her. He just sounded dangerous. "Go home. Now."

 

The nurse took a breath and nodded, trying to hold back the tears, she pushed passed the rest of the resuscitation team. Sam looked in the direction she had left but Castiel couldn't help but rush to Dean's side, holding his hand, stroking his hair. The doctors explained to Sam what had happened, rather honestly, explaining that the nurse had made a mistake, that they're very sorry and she won't be around anymore. Sam nodded his thanks and sat on the other side of Dean, watching how Castiel was with his brother. A small sad smile spread across Sam's face. He had known something had been going on between his brother and the angel for some time now, but this was the first time he'd been allowed to see any of it. Dean started to come around slowly, turning his head into Castiel's hand before jerking back, his eyes panicked. Cas's hand was cold, much like the ghost's had been. It took him a second to realise who it was and then another to calm down.

 

"You're okay, Dean," Cas said. "You were given a morphine overdose-- what?"

 

Dean was shaking his head, gesturing for a pen again. Cas gave him the small whiteboard and pen, head tilted in confusion.

 

G-H-O-S-T

 

"What?" Sam frowned. A ghost? Here? Dean just tapped the board impatiently, annoyed he couldn't speak. "Right, okay, sorry. Do you mean a ghost gave you an overdose? Dean I really don't--" More tapping. "Right okay, fine it was a ghost. What did it look like?"

 

W-O-M-A-N

 

"Anything else?"

 

Dean shook his head slightly. It had been dark, he didn't see any of her features, just her weight. God, he could still feel her on top of him. Cas brought him out of his thoughts though, leaning his forehead against Dean's. Dean could feel the panic leave him almost instantly. He leaned into the touch and closed his eyes for a second before pulling away.

 

S-U-R-P-R-I-S-E-D-?

 

He pointed the whiteboard at Sam.

 

"Not in the least," Sam grinned, shaking his head. "You stay with him, Cas. I think Jack has one more check up, then he can go home. I'll tell Bobby about your ghost and see what we can dig up. Okay?"

 

Dean nodded and curled up as much as the tubes would allow him. There was a couple of moments silence before Dean pulled away to write on his board again.

 

D-O-N-'-T L-E-A-V-E M-E

 

Cas frowned at the message. "I'd never leave you, Dean."

 

B-E-L-I-E-V-E M-E-?

 

"Of course, I do," Cas smiled at him and stood, making Dean frown. _You said you weren't going to leave me,_ he thought. "Move over," he said. The realisation dawned on Dean and he moved over toward the ventilator machine, making room for Cas on the bed. Cas got into the bed behind him, putting an arm around Dean's waist, holding him close. "She did something to you, didn't she?"

 

Dean nodded as much as the tube in his mouth would allow. Cas squeezed him. "I won't let anything happen to you, Dean, just sleep. I've got you."

 


End file.
